


Got It So Good

by blissed_bess



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Nipple Piercings, Pets, Piercings, Slavery, Tattoos, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, alpha!Harry, mpreg!Draco, non-con in the context of slavery, pet!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:10:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissed_bess/pseuds/blissed_bess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How could a pet not be happy, when he's got it so good?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Written for <a href="http://hp-owned.livejournal.com.html">hp-owned prompt</a> - Harry is a mated alpha werewolf but finds the sexual dynamics between his mate (a werewolf!Weasley male) and him incompatible. As a result, their sex life feels dull. So Harry and his mate purchase a sex slave to play with... to spice up their sex life and bear their children. Their new slave pet and human breeder (to bear Harry and his mate's babies). Yes, this calls for a Dom!Werewolf!Harry, an equally Dom!Werewolf!Weasley male and a Sub!Mpreg!Draco... also Human!Draco. by appleling</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got It So Good

**Got It So Good.**

In the soft glow of early morning light, Bill Weasley watches his husband sleep. 

It's a rare opportunity, and he makes the most of it. They're busy men, both, with careers and responsibilities and family and friends. In their five years of marriage, they've filled all the nooks and crannies of their lives with the things they love. And their time together, alone, is a precious and guarded thing. 

He watches the man he loves. Loves with passion, and protectiveness, and pride, and a depth so deep it can leave him trembling with the ferocity of his emotions. 

His alpha wolf has marked and claimed and owns his one true mate - Harry Potter. Just as he is marked and claimed and owned by Harry, as Harry's one true mate. Two alphas – both strong, both powerful – joined through love and commitment and passion.

And because Bill has such an intimate understanding of his own alpha wolf, he knows and understands the unfulfilled yearnings of Harry's wolf. They're acceptable to Harry – his lover who sacrifices so much of himself for the things he loves, his own wants and needs so often denied, or minimised, or pushed aside.

But Bill knows. 

He sees it in all the places Harry thinks are well-hidden. Soft sighs of yearning to be the one who takes, not always be the one who is taken. Fierce flashes of want, so quickly suppressed, when nursing his cherished nieces and nephews. Lingering shadows of loneliness, when Bill's travels keep him absent so often.

He runs long elegant fingers through Harry's sleep mussed hair, all care and restraint not to wake him. Yesterday they had celebrated Harry's birthday with a house overflowing with family and friends. And last night they had celebrated privately, long, long into the night. 

His eyes flutter closed as his wolf breathes in the scent of his slumbering husband's happiness. He has much to be thankful for. Yet, even as he acknowledges his devotion and contentment, he knows that somewhere deep, deep inside his mate, there is a secret desire for something _more_. 

And as Harry's lover, husband, and alpha, Bill knows that it's his responsibility, and greatest joy, to provide it for him.

***

Later in the day, when Harry's enjoyed a leisurely lie-in, an exquisite blow-job, a shower, and some breakfast, he is dragged into their basement so that Bill can present him with his birthday gift.

Harry looks at it with a mix of wonder and bemusement, and a great big smile twitching on his lips. 

He turns his back on it, and shoves Bill up against the basement wall.

'This is it?' he demands, rough-handling his stunned husband's body against the solid brick wall. 

'You go shopping…' he laughs, taking the time to smear sloppy kisses over Bill's surprised face, '…and you're thinking of me, of what I'd like, something that suits…' grabbing Bill's wandering hands and pinning them against the wall, '…knowing how much I love opening presents…' straining with the effort to keep his husband in place, '…after all the years when I never got not a single present to open…' grinding against him, hip to hip, clothed cock to cock, grunting with the effort, '…and you see this...' breaking off to pant while he rubs and thrusts and humps, hips pounding and bruising, '…this fucking...' groaning in time with Bill's own attempts to take charge and get them off, '…fucking _perfect_ gift...' rubbing, shoving, bucking, '… _oh, oh, oh_...' chasing release, breathlessly, urgently, desperately, no breath left for words, just hot harsh gasps, and fierce fucking frotting, and they come, together, in perfect sync, laughing at their hot lust, leaning into each other, sharing softening kisses.

Until Harry takes a step back and continues, '… this _fucking perfect gift..._ ' he glances back at it, just to check he saw right the first time, '…and you spoil it all, by not wrapping it…'

While Bill's still pulling his wand out of his pocket, Harry's already finishing a whispered spell to clean them up. He's kissing along Bill's sweat dampened neck, while Bill is incanting and flicking his wand.

He's spun back around by Bill's strong hands, and he laughs out loud at his gift, now wrapped in sparkling birthday wrapping paper, adorned by a big blue bow.

'Can I open it now?' he puppy-dog-eyes, flapping his long black eyelashes for effect.

'Sure,' agrees Bill, with a smirk of epic smugness. 'I hope you like it…'

'I'm sure I will…'

And Harry sits on the floor and rips and shreds the birthday wrappings, revealing a small cage with a human cramped within. 

A naked, collared, kneeling human, chained at wrist and knee and ankle, ball-gagged and blindfolded.

With snowy white hair, so soft, so fine…

Harry knows this human. Harry's wolf knows this human.

'Is it really…?' He can't see the human's face, lowered as it is by the smallness of the cage, but he's sure, so sure... wants to be sure.

'Yes - he came up for auction six weeks ago. As soon as I saw him, I knew. I knew he'd be perfect for us. For you.'

'He's … safe? Clean?'

'Of course! Pretty fucking rough, to be honest, when I first saw him, but you'll see for yourself, I had him put through a full Repair & Restoration programme. He's fully trained, love, with all the standard enhancements, as well as some improvements that I selected especially for you. The slave trainer...'

'Oh,' Harry cries in shock, then in a small, child-like voice he says, '... _slave...?'_

'My mistake, love, no need to fret. He's a pet, Harry, a happy, fun-loving pet! I just know, I can tell, he's going to be the most perfect pet. Keep us amused when I'm home, and keep you company when I'm away. And, when we're ready…'

Harry waits for Bill to continue, but the pause goes on too long. '…when we're ready…?' he prompts.

'I had him Upgraded, Harry.' Bill pulls his love, his lover, his husband, back into a fierce hug. 'When we’re ready… he's a Breeder now. On suppressants, of course – we'll make that decision together when the time is right – but he's ready for us, whenever we want to take that step.'

'A baby?' His voice is so soft, filled with tremulous longing. 'Our baby?'

'Yes. Happy Birthday, love.'

'Fuck.'

'Yes.'

'Fuck!'

'Yes!'

'Fuck, Bill! It's the best fucking birthday present ever! Ever!'

'I'm glad you think so. Let's bring it inside, while you think of a new name for it.'

'Fuck, no! He already has the perfect pet name – no way I'm changing it!' He leans down to unlock the cage. 'Hey, Draco,' he croons. 'You're home, boy. Your new home. Come on, let me get you out of there. Come on, pet. Come on out and we can play…'

***

Loving your pet is easy, Harry finds. He takes to pet ownership with diligence and consistency, with responsibility and reliability, and with affection and care.

He sets, what he considers to be, reasonable rules and achievable goals. He rewards good behaviour and has a just and robust hierarchy of punishments. He balances the hard work of training with recuperative free times and enjoyable fun times. 

He is careful to feed his pet on time every time. He sticks to the recommended crunchy little pet biscuits, customised with supplements and suppressants, nutritionally enhanced, though bland as all fuck. And he rewards generously with pieces of fresh fruit and chunks of crunchy vegetables. 

He prepares a separate little space on the covered deck with soft comfy cushions and a snuggly warm blanket - perfect for his pet's naps in the afternoon sunshine. Bill had already ordered a beautiful pet basket for their main bedroom, and Harry has added several small cushions for his pet to arrange just as he wishes.

He retrains his pet to use the bathroom facilities. The previous owner was apparently a much harsher Master who made the pets do their business outside. And he reminds his pet on several occasions that he may use the shower for his cleansing, not the outside hose. 

He is slowly trying to break his pet's reactions to whenever a wand is drawn. From total catatonic collapse to horrified hysterical quivering, now, under Harry's gentle care, his pet has improved to just occasional bouts of fearful flinching or cowering cringing. 

He takes the time to remember the Draco who once was. The proud Draco who had friends and family and home and wealth and prestige and power. The Draco who had watched hopelessly as his world crumbled around him. Who survived poorly the end of the war, lost to the fate of convicted Death Eaters. Sold off as servants, slaves, pets - Draco's beauty easily determined his place in the post-Voldemort world. 

He knows that his pet sorrows and grieves for what once was. He knows that his pet cries often - soft sobs sometimes, wretched weeping others. He soothes him when he can, telling him that everything's alright now, everything's fine. He tells his pet that he is safe now, with good Masters who will always treat him well. He assures his pet that he is home now, that he'll never be sold again. And he holds him and rocks him and pets his soft white hair.

And wonders why his pet still cries, when he's got it so good.

***

Bill gets word of his next business trip and works hard to postpone it for a week. On the Monday it's Harry's seventh anniversary of being turned, and Bill always ensures he's home for Harry on that day. Then it's the full moon on the Thursday. With the new potions so readily available now it's a simple thing to take them through the moon and not deal with a change. But Bill feels like a wild run this month, and he's sure that Harry will too.

He watches as his lover fucks their slave. _Pet!_ , he reminds himself. For Harry, for his beloved husband and mate, he will only ever refer to their slave as their _pet_. He knows that Harry's heart would break for a slave. But a pet, well, that's entirely different. Harry _adores_ their pet, and Bill loves seeing his husband so very happy. Draco has slotted into their little family as if he were made especially for them. And considering how much Bill spent on customising him - well, every fucking galleon he'd spent was totally worth it. 

Harry's groans have taken on a deep cadence, and Bill watches - has found that he enjoys _watching_ so very much. Watches Harry's hips thrusting, watches Harry's glistening cock slide in and out of their pet's tight, rosy hole. Watches as Harry's weight and the force of his rutting pushes their pet forward, soft fine hair draped over bowed head. He watches the dance of his husband's muscles, dimpling and rolling, taut and defined, as Harry strains towards his orgasm. Watches Harry increase his speed, fucking furiously, one hand digging into his pet's hip, the other gripping the back of his pet's collared neck. Watches as Harry's eyes find his for just a brief moment, before they slowly close with the sweetest smile. Watches as Harry comes, the way his mouth opens, the way his body strains then releases, strains then releases, over and over, all the while as he sighs in time with his body's rhythm. 

Bill reaches over, glides his hand down his husband's sweaty back, leans in and kisses him soft and tender, lingeringly, tasting the ferociousness of Harry's wolf's joy.

***

As a going away gift, Bill has arranged a visit from the premier tattooist in wizarding Britain. 

Harry had farewelled Bill privately last night, again at early dawn, and also over breakfast that morning. It would be a long trip, he'd been warned. 

They both look at their pet, kneeling contentedly next to Harry, Harry's hand absently petting his head. And there's a blazing intensity when their gazes meet again.

'When I return...' Bill says, hovering between question and statement.

'Yes,' Harry replies simply.

'... we'll stop his suppressant and let him go into heat. Think about it Harry, while I'm gone. Imagine what this would mean for us, what change it will bring. We need to be sure...'

'Yes,' he says again. 'I am sure. I'm so very sure. Yes!'

'Fuck. Fuck, yes! Come on, kiss me quick so I can get out of here!' 

He's grabbed into one of Bill's alpha kisses - totally dominated, totally taken. And he gives back as best he can, pouring all his love into it. _Yes,_ his kisses are saying, _yes, let's make a baby!_

Finally, after seeing Bill off through the fireplace, Harry heads into the dining room. 

The long dining table has been cleared, then covered with a thick padded blanket. Draco is on his back on the blanket, the tattooist, Natalia, arranging his limbs. Harry steps forward, casting charms for securing points, and clicks his pet's cuffs and collar into place. 

'How tight will these need to be?' he asks Natalia, nodding at his pet's bindings.

'I don't want him to move at all, Harry. It's going to take quite a bit of time, and, with the additions of the protective and tracking spells, I'm afraid it's going to be quite uncomfortable for him.' The tattooist is setting up her equipment, lining up little pots of ink, wand-working spells and charms as she goes. 

Harry quickly leans over his pet, nose to nose, looking straight into wildly frightened eyes.

'It's ok, Draco,' he whispers. 'We've talked about this, haven't we, remember? We talked about how she will need to use her wand to make sure the tattoo is as beautiful as we've designed. That's all she's doing, nothing else. Look at me, Draco. Let me know you understand.'

He waits for his pet to slow his panicked breathing, then make a small nod.

'Good. I'll be with you the whole time, right here by your side. It's all good, pet, all good.' Harry smiles up at the tattooist and explains. 'It's ok, go ahead. Draco will be a bit nervous about your wand, but I've tried to prepare him as best I can. We've talked about the discomfort, and he'll let me know if the pain gets too much.'

'It's going to be a pleasure working on such a gorgeous pet,' she leans over so Draco can see her smile. 'You'll be fine, don't you worry. It will hurt, I won't lie to you, but not for very long. And it will be so worth it when we're done.'

Harry continues soothing his pet - talking softly, kissing gently, and stroking lightly. They've chosen a dragon design, to be worked in shades of emerald, gold and deep ruby reds, trailing down from Draco's left shoulder, resting over his pectoral muscle, one claw reaching down, sitting just above his nipple. Bill has worked with the tattooist to detail the various charms and spells to be imbedded into the work. And it was Bill who presented their pet with two exquisite golden rings as an enticement to complete the tattoo with nipple piercings. Draco has hovered between excitement and terror, and Harry has been so proud of his pet's courage.

Natalia clips a small machine to the tip of her wand, and indicates she's ready. 

'I'll just do a practice line here, Harry,' she points to spot on Draco's pec, 'so your pet can get a feel for what it's like. It's so important that he stays still while I'm working. Are you ready?'

Draco offers a feeble nod, and Harry smiles his permission to begin. 

With only a few breaks Natalia works steadily creating beautiful art on his pet's skin. The colours are perfect, there's a real glitter to the gold highlights, though it is this effect that seems to cause so much pain. 

As the day progresses Harry has had to increase the restraints, trying to help his pet to endure. He knows there is a core of strength still left over from the Draco that once was. He sees it in his pet sometimes as a flare of anger, or a grimace of shame. He's seen it too, briefly, in a desperate gleam of defiance, or in a display of determined denial. 

Of course, he punishes appropriately for those misbehaviours, but now, seeing the effort that Draco is making to try to be good, Harry's heart fills with love for his pet. He strokes and soothes him and whispers encouraging words. He sponges his forehead and wipes his tears and gives him little sips of water. 

Finally, Natalia steps back from the table, and the buzzing of her wand stops.

'There, done. Take a good look, Harry, let me know what you think,' she says. 

Harry takes a moment to soothe his pet through a bout of uncontrollable sobs of relief, then moves to take in the finished tattoo. It's as beautiful as they'd all hoped, and he lets Natalia know. 

'He's in a bit of a state,' she nods to Draco. 'The rings you've given me for his piercing are much thicker than what I usually use with a first-timer. Do you want to try to relax him a bit, or just get it done?'

'Should we not use them? I'm sure Bill would...'

'No, no! They're perfect for your pet - they pick up the gold-work in his collar, and they're thick and strong against his frailty and vulnerability. A beautiful statement - your Bill knows what he's doing,' she smiles at him. 'But the piercing will go better if your pet is relaxed. I can stay or leave the room - whatever suits.'

'Stay,' Harry says, relieved she understands. 'It won't take long.'

'Don't rush. I'll tidy up here and get ready, then, once you're happy with everything, I'll work on some healing spells and we'll be done.'

'Brilliant.'

Harry moves down and removes the cock cage from his pet. Draco's sobs increase, but Harry speaks harshly to him, and they reduce in volume.

'Good boy,' he says, then quickly pulls his pet to climax. 

As his pet sinks into an exhausted puddle of loose limbs, the room still echoing with his screams of release, Harry spells him clean and replaces the cage. 

'Much better,' Natalia grins. She works quickly, preparing Harry's pet's nipples, then two blinks later she's done. 

Harry works with Natalia, casting the spells to set the tattoo and to heal his pet's traumatised skin. He can barely take his eyes from the beauty of his pet - the colours of the tattoo and the glinting gold of the rings - as he thanks her over and over again and finally bids her farewell.

Unable to resist, he reaches out and traces the design with his finger, his pet's body quivering at his touch. From dragon tail on his shoulder, round the detailed dragon body, down, down to the claw. One fingertip to his pet's nipple has his pale, exhausted pet arching up, grunting in surprised pleasure, cock filling within the restraint of his cage. He flicks the heavy ring, then rolls and twists it. Unable to resist, he leans down and allows his wolf to lick the path of the tattoo and suckle the ringed nipples, first one then the other.

He looks up into pleading eyes. Can almost hear the _'Please, Master, please. I beg to serve, please. Please...'_

And he _Vanishes_ the restraints and allows his pet to pleasure him.

***

At the end of the month, when Bill finally arrives home, he and Harry spend the rest of the afternoon and the night loving and touching and talking and fucking. Several times they call their pet up onto the bed so that Bill can admire the tattoo and piercings. Of course, that leads to touching and fucking their pet, and it's an exhausted threesome that sleeps the morning through.

Over a late lunch Bill reaches over to hold Harry's hand.

'About what we talked about before I left...' he ventures.

'Yes,' says Harry, his eyes glistening with emotion.

'Yes?'

'Yes! Absolutely. I've been thinking about it the whole time you've been away. We're ready, we're so ready. Yes, Bill! Yes!'

'And our pet? He was the right choice? We have to be sure, Harry, we have to be very sure.'

'He was the perfect choice. Absolutely perfect. What about you, Bill? Are you ready?'

Bill looks over to the far wall, the one artistically crowded with framed photos of family and friends. No-one expects them to have children - two alphas together, hell, no-one expected them to get married, to last very long, to love each other as they do. There's no pressure, no expectation - only their own hearts' desire. Bill looks back to his husband.

'Yes.'

'Yes!'

***

'Fuck, can you smell him?'

'Gods, yes...'

'He smells as fucking gorgeous as he looks.'

'He's ready.'

'Fuck, yes.'

***

Their pet has taken to his basket, curled in on himself, moaning softly, rocking himself in slow rhythmic movements.

Harry's not sure how much his pet understands of what's happening. Over the past week his pet has become a true slave to the needs of his own body. No longer on the suppressant, his first heat rapidly claiming every part of him - his body's needs have built to become his only priority. 

Bill gently lifts their pet onto their bed, motions for Harry to join them. Draco whimpers his need, flinging himself open and wide, then rolling onto his belly to present. Harry dips a finger into their pet's hot, swollen, pink, _dripping_ hole, and takes it to his husband's lips, smearing them then kissing them. They lick and kiss, glorying in the exquisite taste of their pet.

Mindlessly, their pet is _undulating_ his need, hips rolling, body arching, whimpering constantly. Bill moves into place, stroking his own cock, groaning at their pet's wantonness. Harry slides down, kneels next to them, positions himself so he can suck and play with his pet's pierced nipples, and so he can stretch up to meet his husband's kisses. 

While Bill is rubbing his cock up and down their pet's crack, Harry reaches under and unclips Draco's cock cage. 

'Anytime,' he whispers in his pet's ear. 'Permission to come, pet, anytime.'

It's hard to distinguish his pet's sounds, they seem to be a mix of everything - sobs, groans, moans, weeping, panting, whimpering - all mixed together in a song of need, joy, fear, want and denial. Harry reaches down and rubs his pet's nipples, playing with the rings, when Draco turns suddenly, catches his eye, and for just one lucid moment, it's as though his pet has cried, _'what have you done to me?'_ , but it's lost just as quickly when Draco comes, suddenly, violently, just from his Master's nipple play. 

As Draco's orgasm eases Bill pushes in, bottoms out and pants to gain some control of himself. Neither he nor Harry have knotted before - both being alphas and neither having roamed. He feels the difference immediately, the urge to thrust is simply not there. Instead, he feels his knot grow, stretching his pet's hole, filling it. He tries pulling back, but he's truly stuck in there, his knot too big to pull out safely. His pet's hole is hot and tight and moist, and he feels the urge building now, too intense to deny, feels the need to start thrusting. He looks up to Harry, his face filled with awe and wonder and lust. 

'Good?' Harry grins.

'Fuck, yeah. Fuck, Harry, I can't tell you how good. You'll have to wait... _oh, fuck_... wait till its your turn. I... I can't.... _fuck_...'

'That good, huh?'

Bill groans his agreement, rocking his hips. They kiss, Harry greedily swallowing his husband's sounds. 

'I can feel it... feel it... _fuck, Harry!_ ' And while Bill loses himself to fucking their pet, Harry strokes his husband's thigh with one hand, and fondles his pet's nipples with the other. 

Their pet comes again, screaming his release, bucking wildly in pleasure, then collapses bonelessly. Bill grips his pet's hips tightly, holding him securely, so he can _fuck, fuck, fuck,_ short shallow thrusts, engulfed in tight, tight heat, as he inhales the best fucking scent in the world. 

Their pet cries out when Harry's attention moves to his other nipple, and Bill grips tighter, pumping and pumping. Then, as if taken by surprise, he shouts out, and comes, his knot pulsing his release deep inside his pet. Harry surges up and kisses him, dirty and messy, as he comes and comes, trapped deep inside their pet. They kiss on and on, bringing it down as Bill regains some breath.

Bill reaches out and smooths their pet's sweaty hair, and Harry's saying, _good boy, good boy_ and stroking Draco's back. Bill manoeuvres himself so he's sitting at the top of the bed, leaning back against the headboard, their pet still impaled, laid out atop of him. 

They know it'll take some time for Bill's knot to deflate enough for him to pull out, so they snuggle in for the wait. Bill absently traces over their pet's exquisite tattoo, while Harry strokes slowly over and over their pet's exposed belly. Every now and then, they look over to each other, and smile.

Half an hour later Bill is able to free himself, and Harry takes his place. They leave their pet draped over Bill so Harry can have him face-to-face. Bill is so thankful, for he gets to watch every expression that flitters across his husband's face as he knots for the first time. He captures Harry's every moan, his every pant and groan, leaning up to kiss him, their pet sandwiched between them.

Their pet's heat lasts two days and they exhaust themselves lost to pleasure and lust. They've fucked their pet every way they can, even, one time, together. And their pet has taken it and needed it and has come so many times his cock _hurts_ from coming, and every time he moves, so full of his Masters' come is he, he _sloshes_ with it.

***

When their pet safely reaches the fourth month of his pregnancy, Bill and Harry spread the word officially - letting friends and family know, and formally announcing their joy to the Wizarding World. Their Healer has confirmed three healthy babies, but they've chosen not to know bloodlines, or genders. They allow the frenzy of media for a while, even releasing a formal photo - Bill and Harry artfully lounging on their huge black leather sofa, their beloved pregnant pet on a luxurious cushion at their feet, head resting on Bill's knee, collar, rings and tattoo gleaming in the light. Their well-wishers go wild, and they take out space in all the leading newspapers and magazines, requesting that in lieu of gifts they would be overjoyed if donations were made to St Mungo's Children's Care and Services Wing.

When Bill sees stress-lines creasing his husband's forehead, and dark circles under his eyes, he pulls his family back, back behind their spells and charms and wards and veils of privacy. 

It takes several weeks for Harry to be totally at ease again, and Bill and their pet are generous with their loving care. They indulge Harry's constant need to check on their safety, to check the _Keep Out!_ wards on the boundaries of their property, and to review the permissions on their Floo connection. They work together to comfort Harry after his nightmares, to ensure there is always a tempting snack within his arm's reach, and keep a soft light glowing to keep the dark at bay. Bill loves him slow and gentle, and Draco spreads for him, open and willing.

Once Harry is fully back with them, it is his pet who becomes the indulged one. By that time, their pet's belly is big and round, strong healthy babies growing perfectly on schedule. The Healer comes for weekly visits, and though he claims it is not necessary at this stage, he would never think to say no to Harry Potter. 

It's Harry who rubs the various lotions into his pet's stretched skin, who finds ways to help his pet sleep comfortably, and ensures his pet eats all his supplement-enhanced pet food and drinks all his potion-enhanced water. It's Harry who runs a comb through his pet's hair for hours on end, soothing away headaches and worries. Who rubs his pet's feet while they listen to relaxing music. Who tells his pet, over and over, how much he is loved, how much he is adored. 

'Good boy, Draco, _good boy,_ ' he croons as he rubs big circles over his pet's huge belly. 

And if his pet sometimes turns away, breaks down in sobbing tears, looks at him as though in horror and terror, screams incoherently as if in some sort of unimaginable anguish, or worse, tries desperately to speak though he knows he's been _Forbidden_ , Harry is there - there to comfort and soothe, to tell his pet he understands, that it's just hormone-driven foolishness and will pass, there to wipe away tears and console. There to remind him just how good he's got it.

Harry's friends come and go, various family members stay a while then leave - and all are overwhelmed to witness the depth of love that is shared between the Masters and their beloved pet.

***

In his seventh month, Draco crawls to his basket, whimpering pitifully. Harry calls the Healer first, then Bill, who is working on assignment in a small town near Shanghai, China. The Healer reassures them that the babies are safe and doing well, but that their pet is run-down and at risk. 

Harry redoubles his efforts to support their pet, lavishing him with care and attention. He adds enticements to his pet's food - crushed fresh strawberries one day, BBQ sauce another, and lime ice-cream topping another. He brings in a massage therapist, an aromatherapist, and a beauty therapist - all to pamper his pet. The Healer recommends a locum Healer, who moves into one of the spacious guest rooms, and who works with Harry to help his pet find ways to cope with his enormous belly. 

Where once the babies' movements brought nothing but joy and laughter, now they distress Draco, who cries with pain and discomfort.

Bill decides to forego any further trips away, and Harry blows him right there in the dining room, so thankful is he. They spend the days loving each other, preparing their nursery, and showering their pet with caring devotion.

When the locum makes the call to the Healer early one Thursday morning, there is no panic or alarm, only calm anticipation. Everything that could be planned for, has been. And everything that could be readied, is in place. 

The last guest room in the east wing has been transfigured into a birthing room, and Harry and Bill walk along next to their pet as he is ever so carefully spelled along the hallways to the awaiting table. As an expression of their love for their pet, they refrain from touching or rubbing his belly, as even the lightest of touch now causes their pet to weep in distress. They stroke his hair though, calming gentle touches, while telling him how much they love him and how thankful they are that he came into their lives.

As Harry wards off the rest of the house, the Healer and his assisting staff enter via the specially opened Floo. The Healer takes calm command and, arm-in-arm, Bill and Harry watch the miraculous birth of their babies. It is not an easy birth, but that had been expected, given their pet's frail and delicate body. And, though the babies are born healthy and robust, their pet suffers dreadfully and the on-call second unit of Healers are brought through rapidly to look after him. 

It turns out that Bill is the blubbering wreck of the family, sobbing spectacularly as he cradles and wetly kisses each of his babes. Harry welcomes their two daughters and one son with softer tears and dryer kisses. The Healer's assistant brings over three small bottles of baby milk, and it's Bill who nurses their son, and Harry who is assisted to feed their two daughters. 

When the first feed is over, and their children are softly burped and cleaned up, they make their way carefully over to their pet. The Healer reassures them that he'll be good as new in only a few weeks, but advises that the locum should probably stay for the first few days. They hold each bunny-rug wrapped baby up to their pet and introduce first Sophie, then Rosie, then Jeremy. Too weak to raise his head, they lower the babes, ever so carefully, one at a time, so their pet can bestow his own kisses. 

'We did this,' Harry says, his voice filled with awe. 'I can't believe we did this.'

'They're beautiful, love, so perfect and beautiful,' Bill sobs. 'Fuck! Fuck it all! Just like you, Harry love, perfect and beautiful.'

'Look what you did, pet, the most perfect and beautiful thing you've ever done! As if you were born, Draco, born exactly for this. _You_ , pet, with us. Together. Forever.'

And, Harry smiles, warmly, indulgently, as their pet cries too.

 

_fin_


End file.
